Les Vampires
by chicadoodle
Summary: Vampires. A myth, a legend, even to the wizarding world. Harry Potter is about to find out just how real they really are ... {CHAPTERS 18 UP}
1. a history lesson

In the wizarding world, there is a thing called normal. Now, it's far different from the muggle meaning of the word normal, but it still exists. Magic is normal. Wands are normal.Being loved by your parents is normal. Vampires, however, are not normal.  
  
Just as in the muggle world, to young wizards and witches vampires were creatures of myth and legend. Oh, there was undeniable proof that the creatures had once existed, but they had long since died out, from constant persecution and hatred from the rest of the world -- both wizarding and muggle.  
  
Harry Potter knew the vampires weren't real -- atleast not anymore. He knew, because it was in a book. And if it was in a book, then Hermione knew and wouldn't waste any time prattling on and on about it to her two best friends. Or, well, he one best friend (Harry) and her boyfriend, Ronald Weasley.  
  
Harry sighed softly, staring ahead the cold stone wall before him. Hermione had started off on one of her rants again -- the history of the vampires greatly intrigued her, or so she said. She had read every book in the school library pertaining to the now extinct creatures, and had just gotten several more on a recent weekend in Hogsmeade. Which meant, of course, that he was forced to listen to her ranting on and on about the many things she had learned from her materials.  
  
Wasn't this Ron's job? Wasn't he supposed to be the one listening patiently to her? Wasn't that in the job description of being a boyfriend? Oh, but of course not. He was too busy playing Quidditch, something that Harry was still banned from. It seemed that the ban Unbridge had placed on him the following year had followed over into this school year. Which means that he was banned from participating in Quidditch in any shape or form. Of course, he did still have DA, but it wasn't the same ........ not in the least.  
  
Harry slowly became aware that Hermione had stopped talking, and glanced up to see her simply staring at him. "Harry, is something the matter? You've been really quiet lately," Hermione questioned, looking at him with concerned eyes.   
  
Leave it to Hermione to come right out and state the obvious. "Yeah Hermione, I'm fine. Just a little tired, I guess." He lied, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. "I'm gonna head up to the dorms and take a quick nap, alright?" Harry said, not waiting for an answer as he leapt from his chair and practically raced from the room.  
  
Thank Merlin I was able to get away from her! He thought gleefully, falling onto his bed in an ungraceful heap. As he quickly slipped into sleep's sweet embrace, Harry felt a familiar tugging at his mind, something that had been happening throughout this year. Voldermort was there, waiting for him, to taunt him with the deaths of countless innocents.  
  
Lord Voldermort -- He Who Must Not Be Named. He waited until late at night now, holding out until Harry was asleep to kill the most innocent, most helpless of his victums. Childeren, old women ........ he made sure that Harry would always see their deaths, and know that there was nothing he could do to stop it. 


	2. a meeting of minds

Illiona Miteras. Daugter of Minas Miteras, king of the elven nation, lay in an amazingly graceful heap on the floor of her room, bare as the day she was born, save for the tear-shaped ruby that lay between her breasts. While rare among humans, the ability to see visions of the future was a common gift among the membersof her family -- part of the reason that they were the current ruling family.  
  
Illiona moaned softly, her left hand raching up to grasp the ruby that lay nested between her breasts. An old family heriloom, it was said to enhance the magical abilities of whoever wore it. Illiona didn't know if that was true, but it was kind of better to think that the bulk of her power came from her amulet, rather than think that she truly was so powerful ........ and so dangerous.  
  
And this latest vision ........ it had come, at first, in bits of pieces. It was only once she had concentrated on it that it had come in it's full force, nearly drowning her in the sorrow she could feel emnating fro it's core. It was almost as if the vision hadn't wanted to come, hadn't wanted to let itself be known to her. But that was ludicrous ........ wasn't it?  
  
Feeling a familiar tug at her mind, that came whenver a vision was on the horizon, Illiona sighed softly, relaxing her boy against the cool stone beneath her and opening her mind to the warm feeling of floating upon air that she knew would come with the vision.  
  
Instead, she felt as if she were spiralling out of control, and she desperately tried to pull back from the vision. However, for the first time in her life, Illiona found that she couldn't escape from the vision. With every vision she had ever encountered, or had sent her way, she had always had complete control over whether or not she wanted to view the said vision, and could withdraw from it at any point in time. Now, however, she had the sudden sensation of being trapped.  
  
Moaning pitifully in he rmind, though no sound came from her actual, physical body, Illiona gasped softly as she felt cool silk sheets shifting beneath her, and glancedu p to find herself staring at an unfamiliar cieling. Shifting slightly, she brushed against an equally unfamiliar body, and gasping softly, turned her head to stare at the dark-haired youth that lay beside her.  
  
This had never happened before -- she had always watched from a distance as her vision unfolded, had watched as events unfolded, but been unable to effect anything around her. She had always been able to feel the cold stone floor beneath her, and nothing that surrounded her in the vision had ever held any sensation to it -- she couldn't smell the food being cooked, or feel the wind as it rushed through a courtyard. Now, though ........  
  
Illiona watched, entranced, as brilliant green eyes fluttered open to stare at her in confusion. No ........ it wasn't possible that the boy could see her, was it?  
  
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Harry Potter blinked up at the vision of beauty currently leaning over him, eyes travelling from her beautiful gold eyes down her slim, arched neck, to her bare breasts. Eyes widening even farther, he scooted away from the older woman, heart beating erratically ........ and promptly feel out of his bed onto the cold stone floor.  
  
Glancing over to where he knew, instinctively, his best friend Ron Weasley would be sleeping, needing the comfort of seeing another firendly face, Harry gasped in surprise when he noticed the rumpled bed of his friend was completely void of any person. Eyes travelling around the room, he noticed that the other beds were empty, as well. Yet, it was pitch dark outside -- where could everybody have gotten off to?  
  
Scrambling to his feet, Harry took an akward step back, eyes once again returning to the young woman currently residing in his bed. Now that he could get a good look at her, it was blatantly obvious that she wasn't human at all -- her ears were pointed, kind of like those of a house elf, and long white hair feel down to the middle of her back. Her only ornamentation was the tear-shaped ruby that lay nestled between her breasts, which was faintly glowing. Golden eyes stared back at him, flecked with what looked to be green here and there. Her lips were full and red, and she was completely and utterly naked -- save for her pendant, of course.  
  
"Who are you? What did you do to my friends?" Harry asked slowly, wondering idly if she could understand him.   
  
illiona gasped softly, her suspicions proven correct. She had been correct -- the boy could see her! Then this was no vision -- she had somehow projected herself to another place. How this could possibly be true, she didn't know. But it had happened, and she would haveto deal with the consequences.  
  
"Would ........ would you have something that I could put on, child?" Illiona queried softly, cocking her head to the side. Not that she really minded being naked while alone or witnessing a vision, but this boy was here, in the flesh, and could see her quite clearly. Plus, he looked like his eyes were about to fall out of his head.  
  
Harry blushed softly, quickly going to his trunk and retrieving an extra robe he kept stashed there, in case anything happened to his usual one. He handed it to her just as quickly, before turning around to give her privacy to slip it on.  
  
Smiling softly at the boy's embarassment, Illiona slipped the robe on, quickly buttoning it up the front to conceal her naked body. The boy seemed even more embrassed about her nakedness than she was!  
  
Slowly comming around to stand in front of the raven-haired boy, Illiona smiled gently, placing her hands togeather and clasping them togeather in the elven sign of friendship. "I am called Illiona, of the Elven nation. I just woke up here myself, and don't know where I am, of where you friends are. Maybe you cuold tell me where this is, and who you are?" Illiona sked softly, trying to sound as friendly and non-threatening as she possibly could. It wouldn't be bery good for the boy to just run away in fright before she even knew where she was, or how to get back home.  
  
"Um ........ Ha-Harry P-Potter. I'm Harry Potter. this is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I think that we'd better go and talk to the Headmaster. Maybe he knows how you got here?" Harry asked, blushing slightly over his rough start.   
  
Illiona smiled softly, brushing away the familiarity she felt upon hearing his name. He was human, and she knew no humans. Therefore, anything familiar about his name was simply concidence. "Yes, let's go." Illiona held out her hand, slightly put off that the boy hadn't returned the sign of friendship to her. But then again, perhaps he had not known it. 


	3. discovering hogwarts

Vampires don't enter into this story for some time! Not until a few more chapters into the book, atleast. Just thought i'd let you know!   
  
Reviews sustain me. I update one i get one review. That's all it takes! I got a review for the first chapter, so i posted the seocnd one. Now, all I need is one review to post this chapter. And if you're reading this, then that means that somebody reviewed. Hapiness! Either that, or I just got in the mood to update :D   
  
But, nayways, on with the story! Enjoy :D  
  
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Harry slowly opened the door to his dorm room, almost afraid at what he'd find outside. First, he wakes up to find a strange, obiously not human woman lying naked in his bed with him.. And, of course, all of his dorm mates had decided to dissappear on him in the middle of the night. Slowly stepping out into the empty hallway, Harry sighed softly in relieif, grateful that everything seemed to be in it's rightful place.  
  
Illiona walked a few steps behind the small raven-haired boy, idly touching the strange symbol etched onto the robes she wore. She'd heard stories of Lions from her old Nursemaid when she was younger, but had never actually seen one. But, this was very similar to the books she had read.   
  
Glancing up, Illiona nototiced that the boy -- who had given his name as Harry Potter -- had stopped dead in his tracks, and was staring into the room beyond in what could only be described as horror. "Harry is everything alright?" Illiona queried softly, repeating herself more loudly when she illicited no response.  
  
when she still got no response from the boy, Illiona sighed heavily, moving closer and peering over his shoulder at the scene that held his attention so completely. A large room lay before them, obviously once very grand and comfortably furnished in reds and golds. However, now the wall hangings were in tatters, and the movig protraits were silent as a tomb. The carpets were ripped into shreds, and the bones of various creatures -- mostly humans -- littered the ground. Along the walls there hung the skeletons of various people, displayed in all their grotesqueness for the world to see.  
  
Illiona shivered, wrapping her arms around herself. She had seen scenes such as this in her visions before, but it was an entirely differentmatter to actually be there, to see it and know that there was nothing she could do to change it. This was not a vision of the past, it was simply a memory of something that had once happened.  
  
"This ........ this is wrong. It's not supposed to be this way! There should be people ........ living people here. And ........ the paintings should be talking, and being annoying trying to tell you what to do, or telling you how you look ........" Harry trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished as he stared into the room with horror-filled eyes.  
  
"What did you do?! What did you do to this place ........ to me?!" Harry turned on the woman behind him, forcing her to take a step back.  
  
"I diddn't do anything! One minute i'm in my room, the next i'm lying next to you! I swear to you Harry, i didn't do anything!" Illiona defended herself, holding her hands up in a placating gesture.   
  
Harry sighed loudly, turning away from her once more. "I know you didn't, Illiona. I'm sorry. It's just ........ I don't understand any of this. Let's ........ let's go see what the rest of the castle looks like, alright?"   
  
Illiona nodded, gazing sadly at the boy's retreating back. She, atleast, had dealt with visions of her loved ones strung up in such a way. This boy, though ........ he had never seen such a sight, had never been forced to gaze at the dead and mutilitated bodies of those he knew ........ or even those that he didn't.  
  
Illiona cautously followed after Harry, careful to not take too close a look at the gruesome surroundings that she found herself in. As they were about to exit the room however, a strange noise came from harry, and he coubled over, retching onto the bloodstained stone floor. Illiona winced slightly, but reflected without humor that it probably did some good to the decorating. Even vomit was better than the blood stained floor, littered with various bones body parts.  
  
Laying a hand on the boy's back, Illiona started rubbing in rythmic circles, humming soothingly under her breath. Harry shakily stood to his feet, breathing deeply and evenly to settle his uneasy stomach. "I'm alright. Let's keep moving." Harry muttered, walking forwards on shaky legs.  
  
As they were about to exit the portrait hole(for the portrait no longer existed, having been ripped from the wall), a tall, lanky shadow suddenly fell over them, and Harry gasped softly in alarm. His fear did not cease in the slightest once he realised just who it was that blocked their path, however. 


	4. a plea for help

_text_ means thinking.  
  
"text" means talking.  
  
/text/ means telepathic communication.  
  
/Help./ Harry reached up, grabbing his head in shock at the words that had just wrung through it. That ........ creature had just spoken to him inside of his head!  
  
/Help./ Again, the voice sounded within his head, but this time Illiona's voice joined into the commotion. Well, atleast she was speaking out loud, instead of inside his bloody head. "Why do you need our help? What can we do for you? Are you the one who brought us here?"   
  
/This is the future that will come to be, should you fail to defeat the dark lord Voldermort. This is the world that shall come to poass, a world where only pureblood wizards are fit to live. A world were magical creatres are hunted down and killed out of hatread and malice, a world where muggles are kept alive only as sport to be hunted. We can see this world, can see what shall come to pass. We do not ask for you to help us. We wish to help you./   
  
"You want to help us? Who are you?" This time is was Harry who spoke, and he took a step forward, toward the pale skinned, white-haired creature before him,only to have it take another back.  
  
/Do not approach. I wish not to frighten you. We are what is known as Vampires in the present day and age. We can control our blood lust in the mortal realm, but in this, the realm of visions and dreams, we are not quite so able, do not have quite so much control./   
  
Harry took an involuntary step backwards, staring at the creature before him in fear. However, he WAS a Gryffindor, and he had the Gryffindor courage in abundance. "What can we do?"  
  
/I shall accompany you, Harry Potter. You, Illiona of the Elven Nation, shall carry my wishes back to your people. I shall remain with Harry Potter, and speak with those who would hear me in the world of men./ Illiona swallowed loudly, nodding her head in acceptance of the creatures wishes.  
  
Harry shivered suddenly, wrapping his arms around himself. However, he also nodded his head in acceptance, watching at the cratures hands suddenly raised, touching each of their foreheads gently. And with a flash of light, all was again blissfully dark.  
  
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sorry that this chapter was so short! but, anyways, i got the important stuff i wanted to happen in this chapter done, so hapiness :D 


	5. back at hogwarts

thank-you to all of my wonderful reviewers! again, i shall mention this: reviews sustain me. in order for me to continue, reviews are a must! so please review!  
  
smackskiller - thanks for the tip! i changed it so that it's gramatically correct :D  
  
j.draven - thanks for the complaiment!  
  
acefyre - thankee!  
  
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Harry graoned softly, grumbling under his breath as somebody shook his shoulder gently. "Ron, I'm up already!" He practically growled through the pounding in his head, warily opening his eyes against the harsh glare of sunlight pouring into the room.  
  
His eyes grew wide, however, when he noticed that, instead of the red-headed 5th year weasley, he came face to face with a white-haired, dark-eyed man. A man he had seen in his dreams only a short time ago. "You're real," He whispered, and then blushed hotly as he realised what he had just said.  
  
"Oh, I am quite real, Mr. Potter." Harry blinked up at the vampire in surprise, smiling slightly. "While here, I shall speak out loud as much as possible. Should I want to say something to you in private, however, I shall use telepathic communcation. Do you find this acceptable?"  
  
Harry simply nodded his head, grinning full out now. For some reason, this ........ vampire, man, whatever you wanted to call him, gave him the urge to just grin like a fool.  
  
"However, I believe that it would be best to continue on our way to your headmaster's office, would it not? Headmaster Dunbledore, is his name I believe?" The vampire looked down at Harry questioningly, head cocked slightly to the side.  
  
"Oh, yeah. That's his name. What time is it, anyway?" Harry glanced at the window, noticing tor the first time that it was pitch black outside. But then, where was the light comming from?  
  
"I have provided plenty of light for you to see me by, Mr. Potter. You have been asleep for barely 2 hours, by my estimate. I am not very good with human devices such as clocks and watches and therefore I know ow what time is it according to those devices. It is close to midnight, I believe. Let us hope that your headmaster is not too annoyed by our presense in his office at such a time."  
  
"Well ....... could you leave for a moment so I could get dressed?" Harry asked, shifting uncomortably from one foot to the other.  
  
The vampire inclined his head, and was about to leave the room, when he suddenly turned back around. "Ah, yeah. I almost forgot. The name that you may call me by is Mikhail. You may want to know that wh en you wake up your little red-haird friend there."  
  
Harry blushed a beet red at the man's accusation, but did not rise to his own defense, knowing that the vampire was correct in his assumption.  
  
As soon as the door had closed behind Mikhail, Harry hurried over to Ron's bed, quickly shaking his best friend awake. "Ron, Ron, wake up!" Harry hissed inpatiently.  
  
"H-harry? Man, what's going on? Did you have another vision?" Ron was instantly awake, staring at Harry in the dim light of the room -- when Mikhail had left the strange light he had produced had instantly gone out.  
  
"No, no visions. There's somebody here -- his name's Mikhail. He and I are going to see the Headmaster. Get dressed - I want you to come with me."  
  
"Wait just a minute. Harry. Who is this guy? How'd he get in here in the first place?"  
  
Harry swallowed hard, suddenly apprehendsive. How, exactly, were you supposed to tell somebody there was a vampire just outside of their dorm room without causing a panic? Especially since vampires were supposed to be extinct for several hundred years. "Well, he's kind of ........ a vampire."  
  
Ron simply sat there staring at him for a couple of seconds, before opening his mouth to speak. Harry, however, prompty clapped his hand over Ron's mouth, giving him a warning glare.  
  
"Ron, we are going to walk to the Headmaster's office with Mikhail. With the vampire. You are going to shut your mouth and not say a word to Mikhail, unless you can be positive and polite. They want to HELP US, Ron. They want to fight AGAINST Voldermort. He is an emmissary of peace, and he came to ME. Therefore, we are going to be as nice as humanly possible, because the last thing we need is for them to go over to Voldermort's side. Understood?"  
  
Ron nodded his head, a strange look comming into his eyes. As soon as Harry removed his hand, however, he began to speak. "Harry, why are you being so protective of him? He's a bloody vampire, for crying out loud! How do you know he won't just turn on you and start bloody SUCKING YOU DRY?!"  
  
"Because I do not wish for the dark lord Voldermort to come into power any more than you do, Ronald Weasley."  
  
Ron just slightly at the new voice, turning to stare at the door. Harry followed his gaze, to find that Mikhail had once again entered into the room. "Shall we proceed to the the office of your Headmaster Dunbledore, sirs? You may keep both your wands trained on me at all times, if such a thing would make you feel more safe."  
  
Ron nodded his head, sliding out of his bed and retrieving his wand. "Alright, let's go. I want to get this over with as soon as possible." Ron muttered, glancing at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry nodded, clenching his wand in his own fist tightly. He may have believed that Mikhail meant them no harm, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to take safety precautions. 


	6. the unexpected

sorry it took me so long to update! and you guys (the reviewers) are the best! i love you! all this encouragement is really helping. even if there are very few reviews, the reviews i do get are really, really nice. and remember, please review!  
  
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Albus Dumbledore had always known that Voldermort would rise again, and thus had taken every precaution to ensure that he was fully prepared. There was one thing he was not prepared for, however. It's was one in a very short list, that could be counted using the fingers on one human hand.  
  
He had not been prepared for the offering of friendship and help by the Elven people. He had not been prepared to recieve a letter from the Elven princess Illiona herself.  
  
And he most certaintly wasn't prepared for Harry Potter to barge into his office in the middle of the night, followed by Ron Weasley and a white-haired, pale skinned, dark-eyed creature that could only be one thing: a vampire.  
  
Illiona had mentioned, in her letter, that she and Harry had been contacted by such a creature, but she had never even so much as hinted at the possibility that that creature was already here, at Hogwarts.  
  
Yet here they were, standing in front of him : Harry Potter, Ronald Weasley, and the mysterious vampire who had given his name as only Mikhail. Funny - he had never actually said that that was his name, simply that they could call him Mikhail A subtle difference, but an important one nonetheless.  
  
Turning to Ron, Dumbledore smiled at the young man, hopoing to calm any fears he might have. "Mr. Weasley, if you would be so kind as to return to your bed? I'm sure that Harry will tell you all about our little meeting in the morning."  
  
Ron hesitated for a moment, glancing over at Harry. After recieving a firm nod, however, he practically ran from the room. 'So much for Gryffindor honor," Harry thought idly, quickly returning his attention back to the vampire at his side and Headmaster Dumbledore.  
  
"Before either of you say anything, I would like to speak. I was informed by a young woman that the two of you would be comming to me. Illiona of the Elves, to be exact. I immediately contacted the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, for you are asking for an alliance with the people of the wizarding world ...."  
  
Mikhail cut Dunbledore off suddenly, directing a harsh glare at the aging man. "Speak no more, Albus Dumbledore. Your .... Minister of Magic, as you call him, has deniedany such alliance taking place, has he not? Tell me, what are his reasons?"  
  
Albus took a deep steadying breath, watching the tall vampire before him. "Vampires are said to be dark creatures, creatures that would no doubt side with Voldermort. Fudge believes that you wish to infiltrate our ranks, while holding out true allegiance to Voldermort. To be honest, I don't know what to think."  
  
"Don't know what to think? You honestly can't think that far ahead? Why the HELL do you think we so rarely feed from wizards or witches? Is has nothing to do with honor, or fear. It has everything to do with the fact that magical power dilutes the blood. Your blood cannot sustain us, cannot feed us, the way that the blood of non-magical creatures, such as muggles, can. Therefore, if Voldermort were to succeed with his plans, can you imagine what would happen? We would die! We would become an extinct race, from lack of food. WE WOULD STARVE!" Mikhail hollered the few words, glaring at Albus Dumbledore heatedly.  
  
"I came to you seeking help. But perhaps your people do not deserve to be alligned with ones such as us. Harry Potter here, will be a great asset to our people. And you shall not keep him from helping us. We know of the prophesy. We know what he is destined to do. But nobody ever said he had to be human to do so."  
  
As he finished speaking, Mikhail turned, grabbing Harry swiftly and sinking his fangs into the small teen's neck. In a matter of moments, Harry Potter would be dead. And by this time tomorrow, a new vampire would be born. A vampire who had once held the name of Harry Potter. 


	7. strange occurances

sorry that it took me so long to update! i'll try and get the next chapter up soon, promise :D oh, and in case anybody is wondering, i haven't got a single clue where this story is going, so any suggestions you make could very well be included into the story in the near future. so if there's something you'd be interested in seeing, let me know! also, this fic was inspired by the fic BLOOD -- go read it! it's wonderul :D enjoy :D  
  
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Mikhail blinked in surprise, staring down at the place where Harry Potter had been only moments before. He'd sunk his teeth into the boy's swwet, tender neck, savouring the taste and feel of such tender young flesh, and had glared up at Dunbledore in triumph, and then ........ And then Harry had been gone. See ya, kaput. Bye-bye. Later. No longer there.  
  
Mikhail shook himself out of his daze, silently reprimanding himself for the strang eturn his thoughts had taken. "Well, that didn't go quite as expected." He commented dryly to the now fuming Headmaster.  
  
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Harry blinked blearily up at the enchanted celing of the Hogwarts Great Hall, fowning in confusion. The last thing he remembered was staring straight at Professor Dumbledore in shock and anger as the man blatantly refused the help of the vampires, and then there had been a great pain in his neck. After that ........ nothing. Nothing a tall. It was really quite strange and disturbing.  
  
turning his head to the side, Harry let out a gasp of fright as he came face to face with the flesh-covered form of a skull. Human, obviously, and dead for no more than a year or two, was his guess. But, then again, he'd never put much thought to trying to guess how long it took a human head to decomposed and rid itself of flesh and hair to simply become the skull that the Dark Lord was so fond of. That, and snakes.  
  
Blinking rapidly to clear his eyes of the sudden tears that rose up, threatening to overspill at the sight before him, Harry swallowed thickly before hoisting himself up into a sitting position. Was he back in that dream that MIkhail had sent him to earlier? The dream where he'd met Illiandra?  
  
Glancing around the room, it quickly became obvious that he was indeed NOT in that same dream. The common room was littered with bodies, yes, but there were live pople here, too. People who looked like they had been here for a while. And people that he KNEW.  
  
Slowly moving to his knees, and then shakily standig on his own two feet, Harry watched as Professor Severus Snape suddenly turned in his direction is a swirl of black robes (tattered as they were), obviously expecting to find some sort of danger. The look that crossed his face would have been almost comical, had the situation not been so dire.  
  
Harry blinked, watching as the older man slowly made his way toward him, almost as if he were expecting some sort of attack. Just as Snape came within hearing distance, however, Harry felt a sharp tug behind his navel -- oddly reminscent of a portkey being activated -- and Harry suddenly found himself blinking up at the clear night sky.  
  
Blinking rapidly, Harry slowly tried to sit up, only to collapse back to the ground with a strangled moan. The last thing he was aware of, before blissful darkness overtook him, was the sound of heavy breathing and the feel of two strong hands gently comming to rest on his chest.  
  
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Harry woke to the smell of strong tea, dnd the feel of corase blankets wrapped about him. Keeping his relaxed and closed, Harry balled his hands into fists beneath the coarse blankets fighting to keep the hysteria he could feel bubbling up inside of him to a tolerable level. He doubted he could diminish it entirely, but with his Occulamency lessons, perhaps he could keep himsel funder control long enough to actually find out where he was, how he had gotten here, and just what the HELL was going on.  
  
There didn't seem to be anybody about making any sort of noise -- that he could hear - so Harry finially allowed himself to open his eyes a small fraction, taking in his immediate surroundings. He was in what appeared to be a cave -- he lay in a small alcove carved straight from the rock wall, and the cave cieling towered high above him. He could see the glimmerings of an enchantment there, a preview of the night sky. Harry smiled ruefully at that, suddenly reminded of the cieling of the Great Hall at Hogwarts.  
  
Blinking rapidly, Harry pushed those thoughts away for another time, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. To his left was the rough rock wall -- nothing of importance of even mild curiosity there. To his right was a small stand, upon which was resting a hand-made cup of steaming tea and a bowl of soup -- unsurprisingly, the bowl also seemed to be handmade.  
  
i'm in a cave. obviously a cave somebody lives in, and somebody with magical powers, to boot. but ........ why would anybody want to live in a cave?Harry wondered idly, slowly pushing himself up into a sittin gposition. His ribs felt a little sore, but other than that, there seemed to be no injuries or permanent damage. Funny, considering how he'd felt just last night.  
  
but was it last night? i don't know how long i've been asleep -- could have been days, or maybe just a couple of hours ........Harry once again forced himself to focus on the matter at hand, completely ignoring the steaming sound and tea that awaited him, instead focusing on the rest of the room around him.  
  
He seemed to be the only occupant of this strange little cave, the rest of the room bare save for what appeared to be the remnants of wooden tables with bits and pieces of cloth shoved to the side and out of the way. And the place was huge -- it could easily have been the same size as the Great Hall of Hogwarts, if not even larger. He could barely made out what was on the other side of the room -- probably due to the fact that he wasn't currently wearing any glasses.  
  
Shivering suddenly, Harry slowly crawled out of his little alcove, wrapping his arms tightly around himslf. Why was he so reminded of Hogwarts as he stared around this place? What was it about this cave that reminded him of the beloved castle? It ceratintly didn't share much of anything with the large, enchanted castle, aside from it's sheer size.  
  
Shaking his head, Harry brushes his dark black hair out of his eyes, cautiously beginning to make his way across the room toward the opening at the far end of the room.  
  
And that was when the other occupant of the room decided to make their appearance, rushing through the aforementioned opening and barreling straight toward him.  
  
Harry gasped softly, stumbling backwards a couple of steps before regaining his footing and staring into twin grey orbs. The man before him was dressed in coarse jeans and a ragged white shirt, and sported a green bandanna on his head. He had far to many wrinkles on his face for his obviously young years, and his eyes had a hard, searching look to them that Harry found somehow disconcerting.  
  
Howeve,r all these observations were suddenly pushed to the back of his mind as Harry suddenly recognised the man standing in front of him. Draco Malfoy. 


	8. more questions than answers

okay, that was an unexpected twist. even i didn't see it comming :D so, see, not entirely like Blood, now is it? I'm not stealing! See, proved it! NOt that anybody has accused me of it, but i kindof wanted to clear the air about that.   
  
thank-you for all the wonderful reviews! they help to make me update :D but, anyways, on with the story :D  
  
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Harry stared at the young man in front of him, trying frantically to catch his breath that had sped up at an alarming rate. His eyes were wide wish shock as he watched Draco slowly slide closer to him until the two were pressed togeather, legs, stomachs, and chests presse dfirmly against one another.  
  
Draco reached up, running his fingers along the soft lines of Harry's face. "You know, nobody looks like this anymore. Nobody looks innocent, not anymore. Everybody knows too much, has seen too much. Even the little ones know how dark and cruel the world is. But you, my raven-haired enigma ........ you still look so young and naive. How do you do it? How do you keep that innocence when te world is slowly crumbling beneath your feet?" Draco murmured, reaching his other hand up to entwine his fingers in Harry's raven locks.  
  
Harry gasped softly, jerking away frm the other boy. He was trembling now, trembling from what he saw in his silver-haired rival's eyes. Draco had no idea who he was, didn't remember ........ didn't remember HIM. There was a faraway look in his eyes, even as he studied Harry critically.  
  
And although Harry had never before looked into the eyes of a man who had lost his mind, he knew that was what he was seeing now. He was seeing a man who had lost his very sanity, and didn't even realise what had happened.  
  
"Do I know you? Do I remember? I don't think that i want to remember. But i think that you want me to. Yes, you want me to. You want the old Draco back, don't you? My dark boy, my beautiful angel, my innocent little demon. You remember, don't you? Most people don't anymore. Most people can't remember. That old fool remembers. He knows things tha the won't say to me. He doesn't like what i've done here, you know, making this room look like a cave. It isn't an illusion, I actually changed the landscape into my own private little mountain. Or, well, it was private. There are other things that are here now, though. They keep me company, talk to me. They don't like you. They say that your here to hurt me. I don't know -- your beautiful. Beautiful is bad. Evil is always beautiful, and it's always disguised. You never know it when you see it, so you haveto see in all you see. Therefore, anything and everything can be evil. That's why I don't trust. You can't trust. Say away from it all, that's what I do, yes. Haveto stay away from it all, so then it can't hurt me." Draco burst out into a fit of giggles, and Harry took a couple more stunned steps backwards.   
  
Draco Malfoy was out of his mind, that much was obvious. He was ranting, rambling, laughing manically. But his rantings seemed to have some kind of purpose. He wasn't just making things up from the top of his head - he was actually talking about things that had happened, even that had occurred recently, or perhaps not so recently.  
  
This was Hogwarts. This was the Great Hall. Harry shivered at the realization, wrapping his arms tightly around himself yet again.   
  
Draco was walking away, now, muttering to himself as he approached the small alcove that Harry had awoken in. He crawled inside, curling up into a little ball an dquickly appearing to fall asleep. Harry sighed in reflief, grateful that the obvious mad young man hadn't decided to turn to violence to get his point across -- whatever that point might have been.  
  
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Harry slowly stepped out of the opening in the sheer rock wall, marvelling at the sight that met him. The halls of Hogwarts were exactly as he remembered them, albeit devoid of any students or any sign of life at all, really. Dust coated the floors, disrupted here and there from Draco's meanderings.  
  
Nobody else had been in these halls for a long, long time.  
  
But that didn't make any sense. Draco looked barely a day older than wen Harry had last seen him -- even if the lines on his face spoke of hardships he had yet to face. Certaintly it was possible for Draco to be possibly a year older, maybe two. Any more than that certaintly seemed impossible, or at the very least hight unlikely.  
  
He was scared. Harry was quite willing to admit that -- atleast to himself. But he hadn't been placed into Gryffindor for no reason, now had he? Keeping himself close to the wall, Harry slowly crept forward, eyes alert and watchful for any sign of movement or magical alarms.  
  
After a while, however, that fear diminished until it was just a warning in the back of his mind, as it became apparent that no great threat was forthcomming. Now he hurried through the halls of his beloved Hogwarts, eyes ever watchful for anything that seemed out of place -- or anyone.  
  
He found it at the endtrance to the Gryffindor Common Rooms. Of course! The paintings! How could I have forgotten something as simple as that? Grinning foolishly, Harry slowly approached the painting of the Fat Lady, grinning from ear to ear. "Umm, ma'am, are you awake?" He asked cautiously, rubbing the palms of his hands togeather in his excitement.  
  
No sound was forthcomming, and for the first time Harry noticed that the door to the Gryffindor Common rooms was open, making no noise as it swung gnetly as if pushed by some breeze only it could feel.   
  
Shiverling slightly, Harry pushed on the door gently, almost afraid of what he'd find there. Slowly peeking his head into the room, Harry sihged in relief as he came into contact with a negelected, dust coated, but otherwise normal common room.  
  
And who else should be standing directly in the middle of it, than Neville Longbottom.  
  
"I don't know where he is, Draco. And I don't want to play right now, so please leave me alone." Neville whispered brokenly, wrapping his arms around himself.  
  
"Erm, Neville? Are you ........ alright?" Neville swung around at the sound of Harry's voice, eyes going round as he stmbled backwards a step or two. "H-Hary! Y-you're here! You're alive! Your ........ Your ........ " Neville suddenly broke off, rushing at Harry and enveloping him in a bone-crushing hug.  
  
"Neville ........ Neville, would you mind letting me breathe?" Harry gasped out, grinning when the boy instantly lossened his grip, before releasing the dark-haired youth altogeather. "H-Harry ........ how? How areyou here? Everybody's dead! I saw them all ........ them all die. Draco, too. He lost his mind because of it, butI think that i'm still okay in that respect. But ........ you died, Harry. You were trying to procted everyone, but you couldn't. We were all so young back then ........ so young, and brave, and incredibly stupid. We actually thought he would protect ourselves." Neville smiled sadly, before slowly turning and walking to one of the comfortable, familiar couches that filled the room. He sat heavily on the dust-coared furnitured, before motioning for Harry to follow him.  
  
"Neville, what are you talking about? I just got here from the Headmaster's office. We were up there with a ........ with somebody from the non-human magical community, and then I twas all of a sudden here. Or, well, in the Great Hall, but I guess that it's the same thing, really. I couldn't have died!" Harry exclaimed, feeling himself start to tremble.   
  
No! I can't los tit now, not when I'm so close to finially figuring out what's going on here! Harry sclolded himself, forcing his mind to relax and open. Calm Harry thought forcefully, knowing that Neville was still staring at him strangely.  
  
"Harry, what are yout alking about? That's impossible! Obviously you survived the attack -- you wouldn't be here otherwise. Perhaps you simply blocked it out? I've heard that that's possible even for muggles, that it has something to do with their brain chemistry. Or maybe magic had something to do it with it? Magic has been going haywire ever since that attack -- something it works, sometimes it doesn't, but when it does work, it never comes out the way it's supposed to, you know?" Neville grinned now, obviously trying to make light of the current situation.  
  
Harry sighed loudly, turnig to stare straight at Neville. And that was when it happened.  
  
Harry felt a sharp tug at his navel, eyes widening as he stared at the boy in front of him. It's happeneing again! He realised in shock, opening his mouth to warn Neville, but he never got the chance to utter even a single syllable.  
  
Blessed darkness was all that Harry felt as he landed hard on his back the soft grass, a small moan escaping his lips. 


	9. strangely nice

Draco Malfoy watched the dark-haired youth before him as he slept. Neville had come running to find him, ranting and raving about Harry Potter collapsing in the Gryffindor Common Rooms. Draco had indulged the boy -- he always did, when Neville would take into his brain to create another imaginary friend or fantasy. He certaintly hadn't expected to find The Boy Who Lived unconscious on the Gryffindor Common Room floor.  
  
It was rare that Draco was capable of sane thought lately. Of course, he was a far sight better than any of the other survivors of that dreadful nig ht -- but that didn't mean that he was by any means sane.  
  
Neville was the worst. He could appear lucid at times, so sane, and capable of rational thought. and then he'd suddenly go into one of his fits of rage, attacking everything and anything in sight, in a desperate attempt to erase his mind of the memories that flashes before hi eyes.  
  
There were others in the castle, of course. Ginny Weasley had holed herself up in the Astronomy Tower. She liked to watch the night sky, to screa at it for the reason why all of this had happened -- the reason she had been left alone.  
  
Professor Snape refused to leave his own quarters, spending his days brewing potions and his nights screaming from the nightmares that plagued his every sleeping moment. He spoke only when spoken to, an fell into a rage when he was touched.  
  
He, Draco, had taken to wandering the halls in his more lucid moments. He never remembered what he was like, what he did when he lost control, and gave in to the madness. He tried to visit Snape as often as he could, tried to give the man whatever comfort he could -- it did't matter if Snape understood what he was doing anymore -- he was Draco's only reminder of happier days, the only one left who had ever showed any kind of caring toward him.  
  
And now, here was Harry Potter himself, the supposed savior of the wizarding world. And world that lay in shambles, crumbling to dust as magic continued to go haywire and malfunction in ways Draco hadn't even thought possible.  
  
Something had ripped a tear in the very fabric of reality, ripping magic apart as it's seams, and causing most spells to simply not work, while others worked in odd, amazing ways. Healing spells sometimes inflicted minor, skin-deep wounds, while casting one of the Unforgivables upon a person would sometimes have the same effect as a healing spell. One time, casting SERPENTSENSORTIA had even caused a small garden to appear on the stone beneath his feet.  
  
Draco shook his head, forcing his thoughts back to the matter at hand. Potter was here, obviously unharmed, yet unconscious. For appearances, he seemed to have fainted. so Draco, being the kind gentleman that he was, had moved the raven-haired Gryffindor here, to his own rooms in the Great Hall.  
  
It was one of the few rooms that wasn't filled with the bodies of the dead. Gryffindor Tower was another, since all of the Mighty, Brave Gryffindors had been out of in front of the school when the attack came. The Slytherin comon rooms and dorms, however, ha dbeen an entirely different story.  
  
Draco once again found his eyes being drawn back down to Harry Potter as the boy moaned softly, shifting slightly before his eyes finially fluttered open.  
  
Draco had to smile at the look of surprise and confusion that crossed over Potter's face as their eyes met -- it was so familiar, so innocent ........ almost as if nothing had changed and they were back in their fourth or fifth year at Hogwarts.  
  
"Malfoy? What the HELL just happened?" Harry hissed angrily, quickly pulling himself up into a sitting position only to wince at the pain that that one simple movement had invoked.  
  
"Hey! Are you alright?" Draco instantly reached forward, placing a ggentle hand on Harry's arm, only to blush hotly as he realised just what he'd said ........ and how it had sounded.  
  
"Malfoy, what's going on? Why are you acting so ........ nice? And where is everybody?" Harry sounded irritated now, and Draco couldn't help the small smile that flitted across his features, before a look of sharp pain replaced in.  
  
"They're dead, Potter. Everybody's dead. Or insane. Which is even worse than being dead, I suppose. To live with your mind being torn away from yo, unable to feel, to decide upon your own actions ........ wonderul, don't you think?" The last was said sarcastically, as Draco stood and started to walk out of the room

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emikae - next chapter up for ya :D and no, it wasn't too much trouble at all :D

songbreeze - i contacted you about the beta thing, but you never got back to me ........ if your still interested, e-mail me tlcsuckerhotmail.com

goldengirl - thankee! i'm hoping that most things that happen won't be expected.

dragonnet - please, give me more credit than that. this isn't a timewrap fiction. it's ........ well, i can't exactly tell you what it is, but he is not in his own future, i can tell you that much :D

jounin-elite - thanks for the info -- er, could you just pretend it was otherwise for this story? i really don't feel like going back and changing all that because it's kind of vital to the story :D hope you still want to read it!


	10. more answers than questions

thanks so much to my beta, Becca. i actually have a beta for one of my stories! yay! hurrah! erm, anyways, yeah, thanks chica. your the best :D

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Magic. It is the backbone of the wizarding community. Some say that it is a living, breathing entity, and thus should not be abused. This, however, is simply a theory, and remains unproven.  
But what if magic was taken away? Tampered with, stripped of its usual properties and given new ones? Could the wizarding world truly survive such a catastrophe?  
No, they could not. That was a given, proven fact. Draco knew it with a certainty that he wished he had never had the misfortune of experiencing.  
The Ministry of Magic was in shambles -- there was no longer any minister to speak of, seeing as Cornelius Fudge had hung himself with the stripping away of his magic.  
Suicide had been pretty common, in the early days following the catastrophe. Too many people saw their magic as more important than their lives. Too many people believed they were nothing without it.  
Draco wasn't sure why he hadn't taken his own life, confined to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Nor was he sure why none of the others had. But he was alive -- and so was Harry.  
And that was the most confusing part of it all. How, exactly, was Harry Potter alive?  
Draco could remember as if it was yesterday, walking into the Great Hall to find it littered with body parts, most of the time with one arm several yards from its brother, as if every single person had exploded from the inside out.  
And Harry had been there, dead as all the rest, although his body had been more or less left intact.  
So how was Harry here, sleeping in bed with him?  
Draco sighed softly, reaching over to brush a wayward strand of inky black hair out of Harry's eyes, smiling gently as Harry made a small sound of contentment, leaning into the touch before settling back down. Grinning foolishly now, Draco finally laid back down beside the raven-haired boy, wrapping an arm around his middle and settling his head on Harry's shoulder as he sighed contentedly and finally allowed sleep to overtake him.  
  
Harry woke to feel something heavy resting against his right shoulder. Turning his head slightly to look at the object, he had to blink a couple of times to make sure that he wasn't hallucinating.  
Draco Malfoy was currently sleeping with his head pillowed on Harry's shoulder, pressed up as tight against the raven-haired boy as he could possibly get. And that left quite a bit of room on the other side of the bed.  
It was then that Harry noticed the lack of his glasses. And the funny thing was, he could see just fine without them. Brow furrowing in confusion, Harry mentally shrugged his shoulders. Everything else was so focusing, backwards and inside out, why not add his eyesight to the mix?  
Slowly and carefully extricating himself from the other boy's grasp, Harry stood and stretched, wincing slightly as his cramped muscles protested against the sudden movement.  
The last thing that he remembered was doubling over with a sudden, inexplicable pain. Then........ nothing. It was blank from that point on.  
He needed to find out what had happened, and he needed to do that alone. And, well........ to be honest, Harry wasn't sure how much more of "nice Draco" he could handle.


	11. mettings and dungeons

Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, was annoyed. And lost. Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. Somehow -- and he still wasn't sure how he'd managed this - by going UP a flight of stairs which he was quite certain led to Gryffindor Tower, he had ended up ........ in the dungeons.

Harry sighed heavily, opening his eyes and rapidly blinking against the sharp sting that presented itself there. Glancing around the hallway that he now found himself in, Harry finally shrugged his shoulders, quickly walking forward and opening the nearest door.

Simply opening a door had never caused any damage before, as far as Harry could remember. And really, it was the easiest way to find out just where he was - and how to find his way back upstairs.

The sight that met his eyes, however, was not one that he had expected.

A young boy sat in the middle of the room, potions ingredients spread out around him like so many toy blocks. He glanced up as Harry opened the door, a wide grin splitting his face.

Harry blinked in surprise, taking a cautious step forward, only to come up short as the boy flickered out of sight, before disappearing altogether, much like watching a television flicker out of reception.

Harry opened and closed his mouth soundlessly sever times, in what he could later realize resembled a fish out of water. However, he couldn't seem to think of anything appropriate, or even intelligent to say, and finally settled for, "Huh?"

Harry would later wonder why that particular scene had frightened him so much, enough to make him stumble back, out of the room and bolt down the deserted hallway.

If he had been thinking clearly at the time, Harry would have realized what a foolish move that had been. However, fear and stupidity usually seem to go hand in hand.

After what seemed like hours of running, but was really only a matter of minutes, Harry collapsed into one of the small alcoves that seemed to populate nearly every hallway of Hogwarts (if you knew where to look).

Drawing his knees up to his chest, Harry wrapped his arms around them, head dropping down and shoulders shaking slightly with the force of his sobs.

It was all just too much - Mikhail, Illiandra, this place, Malfoy........ and now this strange boy, there one moment and gone the next. It was too much, too fast, and it was all starting to catch up with him.

Whimpering softly, Harry clasped his robes in tightly clenched fists, barely even noticing the gentle hand smoothing back his hair, running fingers though the inky black locks.

However, the sound of that soft, cultured voice was more than enough to shock him out of his grief.

"You shouldn't be here, Little One. They shouldn't have let you come." Severus Snape smiled gently moving his hands to cup Harry's face gently, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead, murmuring what Harry first assumed to be nonsense words. However, as his eyelids began to droop and his body to slump forward into Snape's waiting arms, it became blindingly obvious that the words he had murmured had been those of a Sleeping Spell.

He was asleep within moments, his last thought resounding through his head as he slipped into the comforting darkness.

How had Snape cast the spell without the use of his wand?

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thankee to my beta! you rock! and more is comming -- already have ALOT written, just need to type it up and send it off to my beta. so expect more soon :D


	12. Salazar Slytherin

Mikhail had a tendency to analyze every action, every word carefully. In his human years, he had been prone to making decisions on the drop of a hat, of not "thinking before he leapt", as humans were wont to say in this day and age.

The way he had handled this situation with Dumbledore - turning Harry as he had - had been reminiscent of the anger and irrationality he had been wont to display all of those centuries ago.

And now, he had to deal with the consequences of his actions. Now, he had to find Harry Potter........ or all would be lost.

Mikhail sighed softly, running the fingers of both his hands raggedly though his shoulder-length jet-black hair.

He could hear them talking, even now, four floors below him. "They" were Dumbledore, Professor Filius Flitwick of charms, and Professor Severus Snape of Potions. Professor Snape also happened to be the Head of House for Slytherin.

That, in and of itself, was enough to make Mikhail warm up to him.

He bore fond memories of his own time here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry - as annoying as the children - especially the Gryffindors - had been at first, in the aftermath of his Turning, he had actually missed the brats.

Slytherin was not what it had once been - it was not what he had made it. They had been the thinkers, the strategists, the cunning ones who did things and went places where other could not. Or would not.

Slytherin had not been a house against muggle-borns. Almost half the house had been made up of them, actually. Yes, he had had his problems with the muggle-borns - with the mudbloods - near the end. That had been no surprise.

But he had never hated them. They just hadn't known how the wizarding world had worked. He had persuaded - nay, begged, pleaded even, with the others for some sort of initiation period, for both the students and their parents. A year, at the very least, during which they would learn how to co-exist peacefully with the rest of the wizarding world.

Godric had flat-out refused. Something about keeping the muggles in their "natural environment" and "disrupting the natural order of things", and how everything would "work itself out in time". Codswallop, in his opinion.

That had been five years before his turning -- five years before his "death". And when he had left, nothing had changed. Nothing at all.

Even to this day, centuries later, that damned Gryffindor pride still angered him. Gryffindor's pride in the system, in his muggle-born students, had been the cause of the rift between them. And that rift had been transferred over to their houses, as well.

The man once known as Salazar Slytherin sighed softly as the memories washed over him, closing his eyes briefly against the tears that threatened.

When he opened his eyes, however, they were clear and dry, no hint of his inner turmoil showing.

Albums Dumbledore sighed softly, slipping off his spectacles and rubbing his eyes.

They were getting nowhere here. Filius had been able to confirm that no transportation spells had been used to send Harry away. Indeed, the Vampire Mikhail had not cast any spells on the boy. Except for the turning, of course. But that was done through a completely different kind of magic.

They didn't know about the Turning, of course. They couldn't now - after all, Harry Potter, a Vampire. He was the Wizarding World's beacon of Hope and Light. If word of this were to ever get out........ It would be disastrous.

Severus was off now, in the far corner of the room (as far as he could get away from Filius without actually leaving the room), a pile of books practically obscuring him from view.

Vampire. They were supposed to be a myth, a legend. And yes, here one was, a mere four floors above them, calmly sitting in a locked and barred room, with Remus standing on guard.

Albus wasn't a fool. He knew that the only reason why Mikhail remained in that room was because he wanted to.

Albus glanced up sharply as Severus gave off a frightened yelp, unable to stop the smile that spread across his lips.

"Severus, is something the matter?

Severus glanced up at Albus, face white and eyes wide with fear. "I think....... I think I know where Mr. Potter is, Albus."


	13. conversations with a madman

Severus Snape sat with his back against the wall, eyes trained on the still form of one Harry Potter.

His moments of lucidity were random and never lasted very long, but he always tried to do something constructive with them. Something that DIDN'T involve potions.

Most of the time, he researched. He had now two topics: one, how to cure this goddamned madness that had stricken any and all creatures that had al ink to magic. Two? To discover just what the HELL had happened to magic, what had made it go haywire like this -- and if there was any way to fix it.

So, what was he doing instead? Sitting in a corridor deep in the dungeons, watching over a sleeping Harry Potter.

If the potion was working correctly -- and it should be, since potions ingredients didn't seem to be affected by the tragedy that had struck magic -- then Potter should wake up at any moment.

Closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the cool stone wall behind him, Severus silently prayed that his sanity would hold long enough for him to drill Potter. He had to know how the boy was alive, when he'd SEEN his mangled body, mixed with all the others from that fateful day.

Harry groaned softly, blearily blinking open his eyes to the sight of one Severus Snape leaning over him, a cool hand resting on his forehead.

Harry blinked fuzzily up at the older man, brain not quite processing what it was his eyes were seeing.

Yes, he remembered Snape approaching him, remembered the spell that he older man had cast, sending him quickly into the blissfulness of sleep. He remembered all of that, crystal clear.

Snape was being nice. He was........ concerned. That, in itself, was enough to make Harry's mind go into a state of shock.

Of course, there were also the changes to his appearance, as well - it was the small things that were the most startling; the things that he hadn't noticed upon his first glimpse of the man.

His hair was longer and braided down the middle of his back, a few wayward tendrils escaping to curl around his cheeks.

A jagged scar marred his neck, as if somebody had attempted to kill him by slitting his throat. It was angry and red, and obviously hadn't been treated by a trained medi-witch.

"You're staring again, Mr. Potter." Snape voice but into his musings, and Harry quickly dropped his eyes to the floor, feeling his cheeks blossom into a deep red. "Sorry, sir."

Snape waved his concerns away, before reaching forward and touching the side of Harry's face, fingers tangling in Harry's unruly locks.

Harry jumped slightly, eyes flying open to stare in shock as his professor.

"Why are you here, Mr. Potter? HOW are you here?" Snape's voice was soft, almost as if he was speaking to himself, rather than the young man before him.

"Professor?" Harry asked softly, a hint of fear now making its way into his voice.

Snape had always known how to get under his skin. That, at least, had remained a constant.

"We need to get you cleaned up." Snape suddenly stood, hauling Harry up after him by his right arm.

Harry numbly followed after the Potions Master, mind still trying to wrap itself around the fat that Snape was HOLDING HIS HAND. Harry stared straight ahead at the back of Snape's head, and noted idly that his hair had lost its greasy quality, and actually looked quite clean.

The twists and turns they took soon had Harry quite confused; quite a fear, for any student of Hogwarts.

Severus was on edge. First of all, he needed a bath. In his moments of........ Well, of insanity, he was rarely capable of enough logical thought to actually clean himself. He'd cast a cleaning spell on his hair about one week ago that would repeat itself every eight hours, and it had surprisingly actually worked. However, no such spell existed for the entire body that he knew of.

He smelled. He knew he smelled -- and he hated it. Severus had always prided himself on his perfect appearance, never a hair out of place, never an odor to be smelled, not even when working with the most odorous of potions, and their ingredients.

Now, he smelled like a pig, had hair stuck all over his face, and hadn't bathed or showered in over a week. In one work, he was........ revolting. Disgusting.

Severus sighed softly, coming to a half before to the door to his private chambers. With a muttered, "Serpent Sortia," he led Potter into his rooms, wincing slightly at the sight of the dead and unmoving paintings that greeted him.

He never thought that he'd miss them, with their mindless chatter that never seemed to cease. It was like death had given them cause to NEVER SHUT UP!

Now, however, utter silence reigned. The magic that had once sustained the portraits had long since left, leaving them dead and lifeless.

After settling Potter into a comfortable chair by the now-dead fireplace, Severus quickly disappeared into the bathroom to draw a bath for himself. Potter could wait until later. Right now, HE was in dire need of a good scrub.


	14. sifting through the memories

Harry jerked awake, eyes flying open as he tumbled from the chair he didn't remember ever climbing into. Hell, he didn't even remember leaving the dungeons!

Shivering violently from the cold of the rooms, Harry wrapped his arms around himself and curled back into the chair he'd just been so rudely deposited from, glancing around the room in surprise.

He was obviously still in the dungeons, if the lack of windows was anything to go by. Well, that and the frigid coldness that spoke of being far away from any source of sunlight and heat.

What was going on here? Where was Professor Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione? Clenching his teeth tightly togeather, Harry forced his mind to empty, as he had been practicing over the summer and throughout most of the school year with Professor Snape. As long as the man himself wasn't there, it was actually quite a bit easier.

He had to think calmly, and rationally about this. What had he missed? What wasn't he taking into account?

Closing his eyes, as if that would better able him to see what lay just beyond his grasp, Harry forced himself to replay everything that had happened thus far throughout the past couple of days.

While asleep in his bed, he had been transported, through ancient Vampire magics, to a vision of a possible future that would take place if all the creatures of the land did not unite against Voldemort. There, he had met the Elven Princess Illiandra, and togeather they had recieved the message from the Vampire Mikhail.

Odd, that he bore such a remarkable resemblance to the ancient vampire. But that was of no importance.

Mikhail had then returned to the ........ material world, for lack of a better word, with him. They had headed to Professor Dumbledore's office, and he had believed that his part in this little debacle would soon be over and done with. But an argument had broken out between the headmaster and Mikhail, resulting in ........ something. This was the part that he was slightly fuzzy on, but Mikahil had done SOMETHING to him. It had been like pain and pleasure mixed, swirling togeather in a vortex of illusion until he couldn't seperate one from the other.

And he had woken up in the Great Hall, a short distance from Professor Severus Snape, along with several other Hogwarts residents. Before anybody could really do anything, though, besides Snape attempting to approach him, he had felt a sharp tug at his navel, kind of like when a portkey was activated. And again, consciousness had left him.

When he had awoken again, he had found himself staring into the eyes of Draco Malofy, tattered, dirty, and dressed like some sort of homeless Muggle. He was obviously older by several years, if the haggard lines on his face and the weariness in his eyes were anything to go by. And it was just as obvous, from the way he had talked, that his sanity had left him quite some time ago.

After Draco had fallen asleep in what was obviously used as his bed - a hold in the wall, really - Harry had found himself wandering the halls of Hogwarts by himself, attempting to find somebody -- anybody -- that could explain just what had happened here. Or who at least wasn't quite so deranged as Malfoy seemed to have become.

And that was how he had found Neville. Neville had mentioned something about ........ an attack. About him dying in that attack, actually. When he'd tried to explain just what had happened befor ehe appeared here, though, Neville had steadfastly refused to believe him, continuing to talka bout that same attack.

And then, it had happened again. The sharp tug at his navel, and the blessed blackness that was REALLY starting to annoy him. Just as he began to get a glimpse of what this world was like, what had happened here, he was rippe daway from the first SANE person that he had found.

He'd worken in what seemed to be the same .... time? This time, however, he had been in the Great Hall yet again, and again he was faced with the visage of Draco Malfoy, who actually seemed to be a bit more lucid this time around. He, too, had spoken of some sort of battle, some sort of cataclysmic event.

It was around that time that the changes in his body had occurred -- the ability to see clearly and perfectly without the aid of his glasses, the way he seemed to have more energy than he normally did. Small things, but noticeable all the same. He had woken beside Malfoy in his strange little bed -- if you could call it that. Again, it was really just a hole carved into the wall.

He'd left Malfoy sleeping there, taking again to wandering the halls. Nice Malfoy was almost as bad as Insane Malfoy. He'd headed back up to the Gryffindor Common Rooms, but had somehow managed to find himself in the Dungeons by heading UP a flight of stairs. Hogwarts was a magical school, true, but ........ did that sort of thing happen often, and he'd just never noticed it before?

He'd become lost easily, and opened up the nearest door, only to find a small, dark-haired and sharp-nosed boy playing with potions ingredients as if they were his favourite toys. When the boy had wavered and dissappeared, as if the reception on a telivision screen had suddenly gone bad, however, he had lost it.

He'd run, run as if his life depnded on it ........ and ended up curled into a corner in the Dungeons, shaking like a leaf with tears running down his face. He just couldn't take it all anymore -- the fear and adreniline had finially caught up to him.

That was where Snape had found him. They'd spoken shortly, although Snape, too, had obviously been effected by whatever madness had overtaken Malfoy, and possibly even Neville. Although, Neville had seemed quite lucid while they were talking. But then again, Malfoy had seemed pretty normal t he second time around, as well. Well, normal if you didn't count how nice he had been acting.

And that was how he had ended up here. Snape had somehow, without the use of a wand, cast a sleeping spell upon him, and carried him -- or perhaps levitated him? -- back to what he could only assume was the Professor's quarters.

So now what? If the sound of running water was anything to go by, the older man was obviously clearning up. Not something he wante dto interrupt, really. Other than the fact that he would probably be hexed into oblivion for doing so, he really didn't want to see SNAPE naken, or anything even close to it.


	15. a pleasant chat

if severus seems out of character, i'm sorry. it's really hard to write him, and plus, he is kind of insane, the same as draco. and neville. and ginny. and the entire world. so be prepared for ooc neville and ginny, too :D hopefully the quickness and length of this chapter wil make up for the length of time you had to wait for the previous ones :D

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Severus Snape sighed softly, leaning back into the heat of the bath with a contented smile playing across his lips.

This was nice. to be able to actually enjoy a scaldingly hot bath for once, without the screams echoing just beyond his consciousness ........

While many others perhaps didn't remember the hours spent trapped within their own minds while the madnes took over, Severus Snapecould not count himself asone of them. He remembered every agonizing moment, as he brewed potion after potion, mind trained on fighting what could only be described as posession.

But it wasn't somebody else that had control over his body. This was just him, just his mind functioning perfectly whle the magic in his body went haywire. Magic was everywhere throughout the human body, not just in the world around them. Those who could perform magic had it ingrained into their very blood, and thus when magic had gone haywire, so had their blood, their bodies, their souls.

It was suddenly much better to be a muggle, after all.

Sliding down deeper into the soothing warmth of the bath, Severus allowed his eyes to slip closed, his mind wnadering back to the boy who lay asleep in a chair just a few paces away.

Harry Potter. Supposed savior of the wizarding world. Boy wonder, able to do no wrong. A boy he had believed to be dead, killed in the very same battle that had ripped the fabric of reality itself apart, the same battle that had ended magic as they knew it.

His body had been there, along with all of the others. It was most likely stil there, actually, rotting with all of the others on the Hogwarts lawns. They had never been moved, never been given a proper burial -- there was nobody left to do so. Or, atleast, those that were left had more pressing matters than making the Hogwarts lawns pretty and pristine once again.

Yet here the boy was, alive and well as can be. He bore barely a scratch, and Severus couldn't even begin to fathom just how that could be possible. He'd seen the bloody mess that Potter had been reduced to after the Final Battle, seen the twisted arms and blood-soaked hair. And with magic the way that it was, it was highly improbable that he could have recieved proper medical care.

Starting slightly at the sound of movement in the othe room, Severus sighed, now in frustration rather than contentment. So, the boy was awake. Wonderful. Perhaps ........ he could wait a bit longer, before heading out to drill answers out of him? But no. He had prescious little time to dawdle about, wasting away the minutes until they turned to hours. He had to do things quickly and efficiently -- the magic could choose any moment to send him skyrocketing back into insanity.

--

When Severus stepped out from the bathroom, clad in only a pair of loose yet elegant slacks, it was to find Potter once again curled up into the chair where he had originally left him, his body twisted at an odd angle that only a teenager could possibly fit into. However, different from before was the fact that he awake.

Comming to stand before the teen, who seemed deep in thought and had yet to notice his presense, Severus cleared his throat to gain the boy's attention, forcing back the smile that rose to his lips as Potter quite literally jumped in surprise.

"Potter, are you hungry? I believe that I still have some food somewhere around here. Otherwise, we'll haveto head into the kitchens, adn that isn't something i'd recommend doing. The House-Elves aren't exactly the most codial of creatures these days."

Harry blinked in surprise up at the Potions Master, his mouth forming into a small 'oh' of surprise. he stayed this way for nearly a full minute, durring which time Severus raied a finely ssculpted eyebrow in question, a smirk now tugging at the corners of his lips.

Clearing his throat, Harry pulled himself into a normal sitting position, glancing down at his lap as he nodded his head in acceptance. "Some food would be nice, Sir."

"Very good. And while we eat, you could perchance explain to me just what exactly happened to you -- and why I don't remember seeing you. I know of all the Hogwarts student that sruvived the Downfall, Potter. And you are NOT one of them."

Severus turned and swept from the room, not waiting to hear an answer from the boy. He highly doubted he'd get one, anyway. Or, well, atleast not an intelligent one, at any rate.

And it was true, that he was aware of all the students still within the school. For none of them had left -- most hadn't had the state of mind to become lucid more than once or twice, and usually resorte to downright panic as they took in the state of things around them. Draco was one that actually had the presense of mind to force his way into lucidity every now and again, along with himself, and, surprisingly enough, Neville Longbottom.

He'd wandered the hallways at one point, trying to find somebody -- anybody -- that he could talk to. That had been near the beginning, when he hadn't truly understood what was happening. Now he understood, he just needed to find a way to fix it, to mend it. Or atleast to resist it.

Gathering togeather the few food items that still remained in his bedroom, Severus sighed softly as he stared down at the meager offerings. He'd haveto venture back into the kitchens soon, and he really didn't look forward to that. The last time he'd been there, they'd tried to throw him into a pot of stew and had run him out of the kitchens weilding a butcher knife. Luckily, the House-Elves refused to leave the kitchens,s o they didn't attempt to chase him down and take the food he'd been able to grab on his way out.

But the thought of heading back in there ........ it wasn't a pretty one. Perhaps he could attempt to be quiet this time ........ all of the other times the House-Elves had apparently been either sleeping or hard at work on some project that had caught their fancy. The last time was the only time he'd seen them, and he really didn't want another repeat performance of that little debacle.

Walking back into the sitting room, Severus settled the food on the table situated between the furniture and the fireplace, idly wondering if a simple fire spell would work, should he dare to try it.

Turning away from what would most likely be a wasted effort -- and could very likely turn dangerous -- Severus allowed himself to fall gracefully into the hair next to Harry's, reaching forward to pluck an orange from the pile of food lying beofre him, peeling it slowly against the rising tide of hunger within him.

He didn't always remember to eat -- or, well, ehr emembered, by his body didn't. And since he wasn't i control of his body when the magic took over, he ended up not eating. Of course, the madness did allow him to have quite the assortment of potions -- not that most of them worked, with magic going haywire the way that it was. But a couple of them actually didn't use any wizarding ingredients, instead focusing on mundane, muggle ones. Potions didn't just include magic -- they had bee perfecting this art for centuries, and even muggle items could be turned into something truly marvellous.

Perhaps he could find some of the food recipies he had tucked away somewhere -- some of the ingredients he kept here were actually edible, and it might allow him to hold off from venturing into the kitchens for a while yet.

Glancing over at the boy, Severus frowned when he noticed that he had yet to touch any of the food laid out in front of him. "Well, aren' you going to eat? It's nota king's ransom, I know, but it's all I have available at the moment."

Harry jumped at the sound's of the Potion Master's irritated voice, swallowing audibly and plucking a banannaf romt he pile. Obviously, most of the foods Snape had left were fruits, with a few odds and ends.

They both ate in silence now, Harry going as slow as possible so as to match the speed of his professor. Merlin, could that man eat any slower?!

setting the remains of the orange aside, Severus turned to his companion, brow furrowing in confusion as he began to speak.

"Now, perhaps you could explain to me what the last thing you remember is. It seems like the most logical place to start."


	16. enter kayne

His name was Kayne. Once, he had had another name, given to him by the woman who had birthed him. But that was of no consequence now. Now, he was Kayne. 

When he had stumbled into this chamber, centuries ago, he hadn't even BEGUN to fathom what it was that he had uncovered. His mind couldn't seem to grasp it.

Even now, much hidden within these walls remained a mystery to him. But he knew one thing, it was that power resided here. Power beyond his wildest imaginings.

Etched into the walls around him were lines upon lines of prophecy, the walls radiating with the power and age of the translating spells laid over those precious words.

How old the room was, Kayne couldn't tell, for he had never dared travel back far enough,

For within these walls was what he had affectionately dubbed a "time gate", a mundane nearly muggle term, to be sure. But he wasn't interested in grandiose words. He was more interested in the knowledge he would find here.

He had only been through the Gate once before, and even the small jump of a couple of hours had taken its toll on him, draining him of nearly all his strength. To be truthful, he was afraid to go through again, especially for a longer jump.

But something was wrong. He'd known it when the prophecies had begun to rewrite themselves, the words shifting before his very eyes. When the door leading to the Chamber had disappeared in the blink of an eye, looking for all the world as if it had never existed.

Something was wrong. Somehow, the past was rewriting itself, events that had shaped the world into what it now was, changing and evolving into something completely different.

He knew when the change had occurred, knew what he had to do. The Gate was set, he knew what he had to do. Now he just had to work up the courage, take the single step that would send him hurtling through space and time.

The man known only as Kayne closed his eyes, teeth clenched firmly together, and stepped into the Gate.

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-- thank-you to my new beta, Ravyn! You're the best, chica :D 

-- wolfwaken : thank-you so much for your kind review! this story isn't getting nearly as much feedback as my other one i'm currently working hard on (life's blood, souls' essense), but i love it to death, so i'm gonna keep writing even if the amount of people reading it isn't very high. thanks again for the review!

-- for all of you who were wondering, if there are any new reviews i'm gonna start answering them at the bottom of the story, as i have done here. the next chapter won't have any, because i'm posting it up immediately after this one. both are written and beta'd. enjoy :D


	17. discussions and meetings

Severus stared at the boy before him, eyes narrowed and mind churning as he mulled over what he had just learned.

True, the Potter brat was a little annoying, taking far too many chances with both his own life and the lives of those around him ........ But he was not a liar, nor was he SLYTHERIN enough to understand the intracies that came with such a lie.

Of course, it was always possible that the madness had already overtaken him, and he knew not what he said was wrong. But ........ The fear in his eyes was entirely too sane, to ........ Potter.

Everybody here had been changed by the madness, in one form or another -- and not just when the said madness took control of them. Even in their most sane of moments, they were not as they had once been. They never should be, again. But Potter ........ In him, nothing had changed. He remained EXACTLY the same.

And perhaps, is was the insanity of his explanations that made them so much easier to believe. After all, who could COME UP with something like that?

Leaning back in the armchair he was currently taking up residence in, Severus watched the boy before him in silence for a couple more minutes, smirking at the way the boy squirmed under his intense gaze. Exactly the same as before.

Glancing away and toward the door, Severus frowned as a light knock suddenly sounded, brow furrowing in confusions as he stood and approached the said door. Who in the world ........?

Shaking his head in confusion, Severus hesitated half a second before opening the door, an unpected thrill running through his system. It had just been so long since somebody had done something so ........ NORMAL as to knock on his door. Usually, the only person he saw was Draco, and he just barged his way in, not waiting for an invitation.

Lips thinning in anger at the thought that HE would be frightened of such a mundane thing, Severus jerked the door open forcefully, a scowl firmly set in place.

A scowl that quickly turned into a frown. Before him stood a man, possibly in his late 30s to early 40s, with waist-length black hair pulled ino a loose braid behind his back. He wore simple muggle clothing; a loose pair of faded blue jeans and a white shirt under an open wizard's robe, and what looked to be dragon-hide boots peeking out from under the jeans. So, a muxture of Muggle and Wizarding culture, then.

The man's eyes widened in surprise as the door opened, as if he hadn't expected anybody to asnwer to his knock.

Kayne gave himself a mental shake, smiling at the oddly familiar man before him.

Before he could introduce himself, however, (only having time to open his mouth in preparation to speak), the dark-haired, pale-skinned man before him spoke. 


	18. explanations

Okay, first of all, I'm terribly sorry for the long wait! I had this all planned out, to an extent, but I needed some feedback from a friend about if my game plan was incredibly stupid, ormight just work. Well, here you have it. She said it just might work! So, y'all get another chapter. A long one, too! I seem to be having an easier time of writing (for now), so hope y'all enjoy. I'm going on vacation soon, and will not have my computer with my until July at the earliest. However, this means more time for writing, less time for playing. Yay! Don't ask. I know it doesn't make much sense. Enjoy!

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Severus stared at the man before him, brow furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?"

Now, normally Severus would have been extremely careful to be polite to anybody he met -- you never knew who was working for the Dark Lord. However, when almost everybody you met was completely insane ... well, the old rules no longer applied.

The man smiled softly at that, extending his hand, which Severus warily took. "My name is Kayne. May I ... come in?"  
Now, that was a surprise. There wren't many people around (that he knew of), who actually had the state of mind to tell you their name. Most simply spent their days in a cloudy haze, escaping from reality in the only way they knew how. Insanity. He'd learned that lesson the hard way -- asking Virginia Weasley to answer a logical question.

It hadn't been pretty.

Severus pushed such wayward thoughts to the back of his mind, angry at himself for allowing such useless thoughs to interfere with one of rare lucid moments.

Quickly stepping aside, Severus allowed the man to enter in to his personal rooms, watching his every movement. It was a habit, really, to be suspicious of everybody he met. Perhaps it was unnecessary now, in these days, but old habits died hard.

Or perhaps this man was simply more dangerous in his insanity.

Kayne smiled at the sight of the dark haired boy sprawled out on the couch, brow furrowed slightly at the strange pull he felt toward the young boy. He seemed so ... familiar. Perhaps he was reminiscent of the boy he had known in his own years among humans?

Forcing himself to look away from thos brilliant green eyes -- it was the eyes that pulled him the most, he decided -- Kayne once again turned to the dark-haired man who had first greeted him.

Now how to go about this?

Severus returned to his seat, waving his hand in the general direction of the other chair beside him, and diagonal from Harry. "We don't have much time ... the madness could overtake me at any moment, so I suggest you hurry up and say whatever it is you came here to say."

"Right. Of course. As I said, my name is Kayne. I'm not sure if any of you have ever heard of something called the Veil ..." Kayne stopped at the sharply drawn breath from the dark haired youth, licking his lips at the stricken look on the boy's face. "Or perhaps you have. I fell through this device a time ago. I'm not sure what speculations have been made, as to where it leads. However, it led _me_ to a place displaced in time. I was outside of the main stream of time. From there, I was able to gather, after quite a while, mind you, that something is decidedly wrong. Time itself seems to be ... changing. Rearranging itself. Perhaps even desintegrating, if I read things correctly. And it all seems to be originating from this place. This Castle. This very room."

Severus stared at the man for a mom ent, eyes narrowed as he tried in vain to detect any sort of madness from the man. A twitch, an unnatural glow coming from his eyes ... anything. But it wasn't there. His black hair was well kept, brown eyes devoid of any hint of the madness that ran rampant through the castle .. through the very world. His hands did not shape, his foot did not tap uncontrollably. There were no outward signs of madness anywhere he could see.

Of course, it was possible that this was just a hullucination, brought on by his own madness. But it was so different, from anything he had ever experienced before. And really, he had no choice but to assume this ... all this ... was real. He could not go through life second guessing his every moment, his every decision. It would drive him mad.

Or, well, if he wasn't already insane, it would.

Rubbing a hand tiredly across his face, SEverus bowed his head, deep in thought, before glancing up at the man from beneath his brows.

He wanted another bath.

Pushing that thought away for a later time, Severus stood to his feet, walking over to the fire place, hands clasped behind his back.

"I assure you, what I tell you is the truth. I realise that durring this time, something has happened to Magic. Something irreplacable, something that cannot be undone. But if I do not act quickly, everything will be lost. There are those in this world -- muggles, as yo call them -- who have not been effected by your madness. For all we know, time itself could very well be desintegrating before our very eyes. All that i know, is that something here --"

"What did you do this time, Potter?" Severus cut the otherman off, turning to fix the dark-haired youth with a pointed stare.

"I don't know!" Harry was quick to defend himself, althoughinside he was more than l ittle bit relieved that the Potions Master was finially beginning to act a little bit more likehimself. Crasy as it sounded, he'd actually missed the death glare now being sent his way.

"I'm afraid that I don't understand. How could this be the boy's fault? You're son, I presume?"

That caused both of the other occupants of the room to turn and stare at him in shocked dismay, and Kayne cleared his thrat, shifting in his chair, suddenlt uncomfortable.

"I assure you, he is _not_ my son. He was once a student here. However, he was _supposed_ to have died durring an attack on the castle. He claims that he was somehow brught here from the past, before the final attack on Hogwarts by the Dark Lord. he also claims to have been approached by Vampires, something I have no recollection of _ever_ having happened, in all my years of life."

Kayne merely nodded, looking between the two men for a mo ment before once again relaxing back into his chair. "If you were brought here from another time ... you could be irrevocably changing things. Your magic is untainted, pure, unlike themagic that now exists. Because of this, you are effecting the very air around you, bringing those you meet into a lucidity they would not have otherwise experienced." By now, Kayne was leaning forward in his chair, hands gesturing dramatically. "I made sure to research this time thoroughly before comming here, and discovered that this is what would happen with my own magic. It was a risk, interfering with the timeline like this, bu t at the rate things are going, it doesn't really matter."

Severs stared at the man before him, thoughtful now, as he turned his gaze on his student. It sounded plausible, however unlikely as it might have seemed. Every single witch or wizard helt magic within them -- a core of magic, you mght say. It was from this that they drew their magic. It ws tot his that the magic around them gtahered, giving them the power that they needed. Therefore, Potter had, unknowingly, brought pure, untainted magic back into a world that hd without it for quite some time.

Which meant, of course, that Potter was responsible for his current state of lucidity. Dammit. Now he'd have to thank the brat.

"So ... how do we fix it? You know, send me back home, and fix that thing you were talking about?"

"Ever the eloquent one, Potter. But he's right. You must have some sort of idea how to fix this, or you never would have come here."

Kayne drew in a deep breath, before slowly letting it out. "Without the use of magic, it will take us a while to get there, but there is a monestary in Turkey that we _must_ get to. There is a man there that I know, who can help us. Also, I was able tog ather that this monestary is the one place mostly unaffected by the spreadof this .. madness. There are witches and wizards there that may be lucid enough to help us."

Severus merely stared at the man before him, mind swirling at this new information. A place where magic users still lived in relative peacce? Where the madness was not as strong? That meant ... that meant that there might still be a way to save the wizarding world.

Severus Snape had never thought of himself as a hero. He did what was needed, when it was needed. He had hurt people in his life -- hurt them beyond words. He had hurt people in ways that still, to this day, gave him nightmares. Or, well, they had the last time that he had been able to sleep a night through without the madness taking over. But he was no ahero. He was not the type to go off on some heroic quest to save the world. He left that to types like Potter.

But Potter was the only reason he was sitting here, able to think clearly for the first time in only Merlin knew how long. Was he really willing to give that up?

"How far away does Potter have to be before the madness will take over again?"

"Oh, you should be good for an hour or two after he laves the general vicinity. But after that, the magic will leave and you will once again begin feeling the effects of the tainted magic around you."

Severus merely nodded, before turning to the boy. "Potter, I believe that you should be able to find some sort of clothing around here that will fit you. I've heard that Longbottom has taken over the Gruffindor common rooms, but I'm sure there was a Slytherin whose clothing will fit you. Take what you need, amd meet us back here as quickly as you can. Understood?"

Harry nodded, hesitating for only a moment before quicly running toward the Slytherin common rooms, leaving an irate Potions Master to wonder just how the Golden Boy knew where the Slytherin Common Room was.


End file.
